An Armored Nightingale

March 4, 2010
This great divide, fulfillment separating life
Is a great gorge riding on a flaming stallion
Born amidst an ominous dusk, he roars “Thy name is Strife!”
But for what causes the pain joint with his knife?
Does it surface when the blade strikes the skin?
Or is it the thoughts pounding beforehand
That pierces the heart and soul akin
His name hovers upon a stinging gale
And surrounds a world turning a smoldering black
His mass of scorpions stomps upon the sail
That guides my resolve to an unwavering light
Fearless to send crumbling the beacon
That sends this reoccurring desperado into the night
For a famine of love and his immaculate steed
Is what causes this heart to want and need
The planting of a new seed
For the ethereal man bathed in shadows like rain
Is a flickering light born as a cunning feign
A hopeless rogue beneath the main

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